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" A complete bitch. She's papa's sister, a lot younger than
he was. She was his sister, but she was ashamed of him. She'd
married a man named Allbright, who went up there and
made a little money, and allóbut maybe you know-----"

" I knew he was rich," Mr. Munn said.   " Just that,"

"And when my mother died she took me. Just to have
something on papa, she was like that. And somebody to
boss. And when Allbright died, she took everything out on
me. And she fooled around with men, and before he died,

" She sounds pretty," Mr. Munn said.

" She was a bitch. And I-----" She paused, moodily study-
ing his face. Then, suddenly, she said: " I'm not just telling
you all this. It's part of what I wanted to tell you. It's the
only way I can think of to tell you-----"

"All right," he answered.

" We never talked any," she said. " Not like other people.
What we were to each other, it was all closed up, shut in. It
was cut off from everything else, everything we had been.
From part of what we were, even then."

"Yes," he said.

"My aunt was a bitch. And IóI guess I was too. There
was a fellow-----"

" There's no reason to tell me," Mr. Munn said, staring at
the ceiling.

"He taught in a riding school. He was wonderful on a
horse. He was an Englishman, and he'd been in the English
army, he said. He was awful. He thought he was so good-
looking, and a lady-killer, and all. He was so awful, I reckon
that was why I began to notice him. Just his being so awful.
I'd get out and see him now and then. He was afraid of my
aunt. He was afraid of everything, I reckon. Except horses.
He wasn't afraid of the worst one. Or any kind of jump.
For a while I thought I might run off with him, just because
it' looked like the only thing to do. And I asked him. But
he was afraid. So I told him how awful he was. Everything,
and how he wasn't fit to wipe your foot on, and how if there